


Mothering Sunday

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Happy Mother's Day, I acknowledge that this is rated for general audiences and there is still cursing, Mothering Sunday, but I figure everyone in this fandom is chill with some cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stars have finally aligned to allow him to give his mum the perfect Mothering Sunday. He had a brilliant job that gave him more pay than he really knew what to do with, they were finally away from Dean, and he was old enough to know he was supposed to do something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mothering Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a break from Bon Appetit to say Happy Mother’s Day! Apparently in the UK it was last week, and I’m curious as to whether Mothering Sunday or Mother’s Day is more frequently used now in the UK? Oh well, it’s already written!

The stars have finally aligned to allow him to give his mum the perfect Mothering Sunday. He had a brilliant job that gave him more pay than he really knew what to do with, they were finally away from Dean, and he was old enough to know he was supposed to do something.

Stars aligned.

They didn't stay aligned for long.

"My reservations are in an hour and I'm still in Cardiff," Eggsy snapped, and he normally liked Wales. All the swans were peaceful, and if the Norwegian Church just past the Opera house had a delicious lamb cawl on the menu. The locals never seemed to mind how out of place he looked in his bespoke suits he'd liked to go buy random paintings from the gallery upstairs to gift to Merlin.

Not even the pastel horse portrait he had in his baggage could stop him from getting waspish. Merlin was going to hate it staring at him, and Eggsy could still fool him into thinking that with his common upbringing he thought it was the top of sophistication, so he'd leave it up for a solid three months before trying to sneak it off the wall.

No, he was in a foul mood and he wasn't willing to hold back.

"It's for my mum," he hissed at his glasses, ignoring the man passing by in the terminal that gave him a concerned look. "I had to put in that reservation months ago and even then I had to bribe the hostess. It's where my dad proposed Merlin, ain't nothing else going to measure up."

"I'll see what I can do Eggsy, but I can't actually teleport you. You simply too far out by train to make it and we still haven't been cleared to land the jet. I think it's time you consider that you may have to make new arrangements. I can help you get reservations for tomorrow."

"Fuck."

\--------

He'd managed to make it to a Tesco of all places, not much else was open at almost 10:00 on Sunday. Their flowers were picked over, clearly, and he wound up buying four different bouquets to try to pick the best ones out of.

The card he'd found that was absolutely perfect was somewhere on the other side of London, sitting it in the car he had been planning to take to pick her up. Percival had taken it when it was clear Eggsy wouldn't be using it, and it wasn't until he was back that he realized that he'd left it there so he wouldn't lose it.

Under that was the small box, exquisitely wrapped, with the mother's ring he'd had made for her with his and Deanna's birthstones set in it.

So shitty supermarket flowers it was, and if he hurried she would still be awake, maybe Dee too.

Of course that was when he heard scuffling and muffled shouts coming from the alleyway.

It didn't take long to access the situation, and he wasn't about to leave a young lady in an alleyway with three arseholes.

At least it would be a good way to blow off steam.

\----------

Eggsy walked up to the house with a split lip and a bouquet of truly pathetic flowers. Half were crushed, two were missing their heads entirely, and petals littered the ground behind him.

He opened the door tiredly before calling out quietly in case someone was already asleep. "I'm home."

"Eggsy." His mum appeared in the doorway, smiling, an expression that faltered when she got a good look at him. "What happened love?"

"Nothing really. Happy Mother's Day." The words sounded pathetic to his own ears and he suddenly wished that he had just dropped the flowers in the drive, the thought of holding them out and showing them to her mortifying.

"I'm sorry," was the next thing he blurted out.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," she insisted.

His laugh was humorless. "I was supposed to be back hours ago and miss our reservations, I show up looking like shit when a bouquet even an arsehole wouldn't give his mum, and then on top of all that I left your bloody card and gift in a work vehicle."

"I don't need all that Eggsy, I'm just glad you're home safe."

"That ain't the point! You deserve all that. You've always deserved all that shit and I'm supposed to be able to give it to you!"

"I've already got you and Deanna, Eggsy. You're both more than I deserve."

He scowled, argument on his tongue, but she cut him off. "Do you really want to know what I'd like?"

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes when you got back from school we'd sit down for a cuppa, just the two of us."

"My cup was half sugar," he muttered, a grin crooking the corner of his mouth up.

"You go clean up and I'll put the kettle on," she suggested.

"Deal," he agreed with a nod, starting forward. He wasn't headed for the loo though, instead heading straight for her and sweeping her up in a huge hug as she laughed. "You're the best mum. The fucking best."


End file.
